Watch your life
by CalibrationStation
Summary: We all loved the Sonic games growing up - they gave us fantastic tales about a super-powered blue hedgehog who could defeat anything: defeat anyone. But what If they were re-tellings, trumped up in Hollywood-style exaggeration? What if the world didn't need Sonic anymore? A satirical commentary with flawed characters.
1. Awkward questions

_**-A/N- Hello, everyone! If you made it this far, hopefully you won't be deterred by what's to come. I could rant on for hours about the creavtive reasoning behind this story (and I have), but I'll throw it out here and see what you make of it. Enjoy!**_

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Day 1

2:14 PM - Sonic the Hedgehog

"...And that, kids, is why you look both ways before crossing; you never know when a GUN truck'll show up. Any more questions?"

"I have one, Mr. Hedgehog!"

_Gulp._

Flitting left and right, Sonic's eyes scanned the room, searching for the little dude eating into his running time. This whole thing was a waste: tiny kids asking him whether Shadow's faster than him or not, if Tails is a girl, that kind of stuff. Pointless, and not all that fun. Of course, the Blue Blur loved the attention, but these guys were getting on his nerves - most looked bored, faces in their hands as they watched Sonic recount his old adventures.

"Uh, sure little man. What'cha got?"

The small boy paused, mentally rehearsing his question before replying, "If you can run faster than the speed of sound, how come Robotnik ran faster than you at Scrap Brain Zone and the Death Egg? And when did you learn that boost thing?"

"Don't believe everything you play in the games, man," the speedster retorted, his voice raising in an instant, "that _egg_head could never beat the Sonic the Hedgehog himself on foot! _SEGA_ just wanted a chase inbetween the Mecha Sonic and the Death Egg robot fights, okay!?"

Trembling at the sudden change in the hedgehog's voice, the boy questioned: "What about the boost?"  
In a sonic second, the spiky speedster had settled himself, falling back into his famous cocky demeanour.  
"...You don't really wanna know, kid. The boost taught me a great lesson, though: never eat take-out chilidogs."

Sonic winced at the admission, and his corniness. The teacher supervising the talk looked down at her watch, and after confirming the time, nodded to the cobalt hedgehog.

"Alright guys, I gotta go now." As Sonic began to stretch, the class of eight year-olds in front of him were now attentive, awaiting his signature speed explosion - as well as the inevitable collateral damage.  
Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Sonic chirped a final "See ya!" before taking off, tables and chairs blown to either side of the spot where he used to be.

* * *

"My life sucks. Why is nothing like the old days anymore?"

Fresh out of a classroom full of whiny kids, Sonic had taken a detour to a scenic overlook of the city. Sat cross-legged on the grass, the hedgehog took in the view. Central City looked spectacular in the early afternoon, and today was no exception; from the majestic high-rise towers to the rolling hills and coastal districts professing natural and man-made beauty, the boundless sky and delicate clouds passing overhead, everything looked to be where it should.

It was here where Sonic had come to his realisation. His life sucked - or at least, he thought it did. By normal standards, he was doing great; he had a stable job in an uncertain economy, he knew a lot of people and was moderately famous. But he was nothing compared to the old days.

Times had changed, and the world no longer needed a hero. Sonic, always the hero, decided to star in some video game adaptions of his old adventures to fund his early retirement and pass the time. At first, interest was huge. Then, as technology progressed - and more companies began pushing the limits of design and programming - the world moved into 3-D. The games got worse, the fans became less devoted, and now here he was. They were the game equivalent of B-movies, sure, but they kept him in good stead.

Now, he was bored. Of life. Of his terrible public image. Of his Wednesday afternoons being spent delivering PSAs to snot-nosed kids and cracking the same, years-old jokes. Of his Friday nights being spent waiting for a call from one of his friends instead of living it up with the guys.

So yeah, he thought it sucked.

With a grunt and a heave, Sonic lifted himself up and dusted off his legs. Absorbing the last of the Central city skyline, he walked over to th-

Wait. The guys.

Fumbling around in hammerspace for his phone, Sonic tried to list off who he'd call, and who'd care. After a few minutes, his hands grasped the cell phone he kept. Sonic scrolled through his contacts.

Amy  
Big  
Blaze  
Charmy  
Cream  
Doc  
Espio  
Knuckles  
Pizza Hut  
Rouge  
Shadow  
Silver  
Tails  
Vector

_Tails._

"Aha! ...Alright, let's see here..." Lifting the phone to his ear, Sonic waited for Tails to pick up. After three rings, he heard the receiver tone as his best buddy answered his cell.

_"Hello?"_

"Hey Tails. It's me, Sonic."

A crackled sigh came over the speaker.

_"I keep telling you: __**it's Miles.**__ What do you want?"_

"I had some free time, and I was wondering if you wanted to go get a drink. Maybe we could call up Mighty as well or something like that?"

_"Have you just come out of a coma? You know Mighty's been on sabbatical for the last few years."_

"Uh-"

_"Listen man, I'm not in the mood for this right now. I'll see you at work."_

And then he hung up.

"What the.." An exasperated expression formed on Sonic's face as his brow creased. "Fine, let's try Knux."

As the ringing tone played again, Sonic began to question where he stood with Tails. He'd just flat-out rejected him, like some clingy sidekick - a weirdo with no independence. The two used to be inseparable, and still saw a lot of each other; he and Tails worked together. They had their professional disagreements like anybody would, sure, but they were... buds, right?

_"K.T.E Here."_

"Knux! What's going on dude? Not fallen for any more Eggman's tricks have ya?"

_"Sonic!"_ The Echidna's voice came through clearer, its tone energetic. "I was talking to Ivo earlier, actually. Now, what do you need?"

'Ivo'? That was a bad sign.

"You've been talking to Eggman!?"

_"Yeah. Weekly workout, remember? We were doing some cardio at the gym - he broke his 5k record, as a matter of fact. Something up?"_

"...No. Everything's fine Knux. Just... **fine**," grinding his teeth, Sonic managed to calmly finish, "I've gotta go. See you."

_"Yeah! I'll talk to you la-"_

A small poof of smoke erupted from the cell phone as it was hurled into the ground.

Knuckles? And Eggman? Working out!? Yeesh, he needed a break.

Turning away from the fizzling remains, the cobalt hedgehog wandered off, pondering his next move. Team Sonic was disbanded for now, it seemed, so maybe he had to reach out further. Vector was probably still working on Lost World; Espio had... opened a dojo? Who knows with that guy. Charmy was probably in school; he didn't even want to know where Rouge and Shadow were and Amy... well, Amy was a no-go.

Had the world moved on, or had he? The blue blur looked at his options. What could he do? Rounding everyone up wouldn't work - everyone except Sonic and Tails lived and worked apart. He never even got a chance to see a lot of the guys. He decided there was nothing he could do today, and kicked his walk into a supersonic jog.

Resolving to get out of his rut... tomorrow, he was over the hill in the blink of an eye, heading home for the night.

* * *

**_-A/N- That wasn't so bad, was it? Thanks to my Betas Eliza and turbo - you guys are awesome. Leave a review to tell me how bad I messed up._  
**


	2. Redundant Insights

_**-A/N- Hello again everyone! This is the point when the story begins to get a little more difficult to read. You're going to have to pay attention to the chapter headings now, as they'll show you which character's POV is being shown, and what the time and day it is. As some of these chapters overlap, that chronological data'll be important to remember if you want to know what's going on xD.  
So, without further ado, try to enjoy!**_

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Day 1

2:31 PM - Miles Prower

Miles Prower was a patient guy. A really patient guy. It wasn't like him to be this annoyed. Frustrated outbursts weren't his way, his style. But then again, Dr. Tanner was a pretty special case.

"I see the problem here, Tails – you don't trust me."

"It's not that, Doc. It's just… this has never worked in the past, so why now? And will you stop calling me Tails!?"

Miles slackened in his chair, waiting for his therapist's next line of condescending psycho-nonsense. For the last 20 years he'd been 'working through his problems' with the good doctor. At first it was helpful; it was good have a voice telling you that you could be your own person – that gratitude didn't equal dependence. After everything Miles had been through in his early life, his mind had needed some conditioning. For the last 20 years, it had been an exercise in futility.

"Now, now _Miles_. We've achieved a lot in our time together. Putting to bed your dependency issues, gender crisis and feelings of being marginalised while Sonic goes off on adventures are all things you needed professional help for. 1998 through to 2008 was a tough time for you, but we've made so much progress: you don't need to always be around Sonic anymore, because you co-operated with me; you don't feel feminine anymore, **because you co-operated with me**."

"That's not the point! I come here, throw money at you and complain about my life, and you just sit there and nod with that **damn** grin on your face! Is it too much to ask that you listen and _help_?"

"What _do_ you want, Tails?"

"…All I want is to go home. Before I strangle you for calling me **Tails**."

"I think you need a new therapist. Well, that's all we have time for anyway. Goodbye Miles, I'll see you next week?"

"Yeah, whatever."

The door shutting behind him on his way out, Miles shot his arms out in frustration, lashing away at the air as if it were Dr. Tanner himself. Another session wasted.

Miles took his leave, exiting through the over-decorated reception area he'd entered from earlier. Statue busts, peace lily plants, you name it, Tanner had it – the good doctor liked things 'cosy and homey', whatever that meant. The receptionist, her fake smile and fake teeth shining, bid him well as he pushed his way past the polished wood and brass door, stepping out into the bright Central City sun.

The sudden change in lighting was hard on Miles' eyes, but they adjusted as he strolled along the sidewalk. Next order of business was the restaurant; he needed to make sure it was running we–

**_brrrrrring-brrrring_**

"Huh?"

Retrieving his ringing phone from hammerspace, Miles lifted the receiver to his ear.

"Hello?"

The reply was instantaneous. _"Hey Tails. It's me, Sonic."_

Oh, great. The burnout.

"I keep telling you: **it's Miles.** What do you want?"

_"I had some free time, and I was wondering if you wanted to go get a drink. Maybe we could call up Mighty as well or something like that?"_

First his shrink wastes everyone's time, now he has to deal with this as well? And to think, he used to be the clingy one.

"Have you just come out of a coma? You know Mighty's been on sabbatical for the last few years."

_"Uh–"_

This was getting ridiculous.

"Listen man, I'm not in the mood for this right now. I'll see you at work."

Olden phones were better. You could flip those ones shut to take out your rage – angrily tapping a touchscreen button over and over isn't as cathartic.

Still moving forward, Miles elected to take the rest of the day off; the restaurant could wait, and he was tired of incompetence today. Patronising quacks ripping you off was one thing, but Sonic was another. When Tails had moved to Central City to co-star in the games for SEGA with Sonic, they'd been friends. Good friends. But playing yourself in movies has weird ways of changing people. Sonic was living in his past – while Tails had made sensible investments in stores and started up his own vegetarian restaurant, Sonic had spent his salary on Shoes that could grind better, a weird physics defying bracelet or some other crap Miles couldn't understand.

The streets were fairly relaxed at this time of day. Most were at work, making a living without feeling the need to bang their head against the nearest brick wall. Laid out before Miles was the familiar grid plan roads stretching out and branching off, each leading to another square inch of the city that hated him.

Heading to the next intersection and taking a left, Miles' favourite coffee place came into view.

"Ah… Smoky Joe's."

Smoky Joe did the best soy milk mochaccinos in the city. The soy milk actually tasted like milk, and Joe put just the right amount of coffee in every cup.

The café itself was a small building: outside seating area, some tables inside and viewing windows to keep your eyes off the baristas using the 'Smoky Joes's secret recipe'. Miles' always sat by the window, just in the corner of the place – it was comforting to see what everyone else was doing.

"Hey there, Miles." To his side came Smoky Joe, the eponymous owner of the café. Joe was a tank of man, nothing compared to Eggman back in the day, but his formidable size gave him the presence of a bulldozer.

"Hey Joe."

"What's up, shrink getting you down again?" Yeah, Miles was _that_ much of a regular.

"You know it."

"You want a mochaccino with soy?" Miles nodded. "Right. I'll put it on your tab. You worry about your shrink, kid. I'll worry about my mortgage and alimony."

The next thirty minutes went past quickly, with Miles supping on his mochaccino, watching the world go by. He was enjoying himself until his boss walked in. His loud, uncouth, disgusting but most of all, _loud_ boss.

"Tails!? Fancy seein' you here! How ya doin'?"

"Vector? ...Oh, Vector."

Vector, the crocodile making his way towards Miles, had a certain quality about him. Everything about him – his looping gait, his slack drawl, the complete ease with which he eyed up every female in the café and didn't care if they saw – made the croc seem despicable, yet morbidly fascinating to watch; maybe it was Miles' insecurities that made him see it that way. Any time for reflecting on that fact was cut short as Vector finished fiddling with his headphones and sat down opposite Miles.

"Hey Tails, guess what?" The croc's typical sly grin didn't bode well.

"**It's...**" Refusing to go down that road again, Miles pressed on. "What do you want?"

Vector's eyeridge quirked. "Hey! Is that any way to talk to yer 'Project Director'?"

SEGA must have been desperate when they hired Vector: no experience, no training. Still, after that awful '06 game, any change would have been good – he just hadn't made the changes SEGA were expecting. Stripped down stories, less characters and just Sonic in the mocap had saved a lot of money and kept the series in critics' good graces. It wasn't entirely appreciated, though; it left Miles with a lot of time to give to Dr. Tanner, and not a lot of money to pay him with.

The savings he had were enough, though. For now at lea-

"Tails? Are ya with me?"

Blinking, Tails refocused on Vector and nodded.

"Good. Now, yah probably know the writer folks have been making another script and well, here it is!" Producing a manuscript, he added, "o' course, your friendly neighbourhood croc added some pizazz to it first."

Pizazz: a classy way of saying 'taking your job away by removing you from the plot while adding things that never happened to inflate Sonic's ego and keep him in the past'. Sonic never put the world back together. He didn't become a 'werehog', whatever the hell that was. And he definitely **did not** shut down Eggman's space park by himself and outrun a hyper go-on induced black hole.

Picking up the manuscript and opening it up, Miles flicked across to the cast list. Nothing new there; Sonic, Tails, Amy, Knuckles and Eggman as well as... six monsters of the week?

"So what is it, and who are these guys?"

Looking up and left, spreading his arms as if revealing a logo, Vector proclaimed, "Sonic Lost World. Snazzy, huh? Yer pal Sonic faces off against 'the Deadly Six', a supa' group a' enemies!" The crocodile reached over the table and flipped the pages to the middle of the manuscript. "Don't worry kid, you get yer own action scene!"

Looking down, Miles frowned. The dialogue and scenario pages were like every draft that made it past Vector's office; neatly typed pages with sketchy lines and scribbles erasing lines of dialogue, illegible notes at the sides, usually accompanied by crudely-drawn pictures – most of them featuring explosions.

Miles skimmed the script, trying to get an idea of what contrived piece of babble Vector had cooked up this time to 'add pizazz'. Werehogs had already been done, so had black holes and time warps – there wasn't much left for Vector to try, other tha-

"Sonic isn't going to like this."

* * *

_**-A/N- As always, thanks to my betas Eliza and turbo. You guys rock socks. Don't mock, and don't be shocked - that's the lock. ...Yeah, terrible, I know.**_


	3. Inverse functionality

_**-A/N- Here's the third chapter. It took a while, but I'm trying to stagger my writing to be more consistent for you guys in the future. In other news, here we hop in with a more recognisable character, so enjoy!**_

* * *

Day 1

11:20 AM – Professor Ivo Robotnik

Just north of Central city, a few miles outside of the city limits, where woods and lakes and bridges are found, lies a small, focused community. Residing in a small bunch of mid-rise buildings, its denizens spend their time moving from one archaic-looking hall to another, before retiring to the dorms for the night.

During the day though, the lecture theatres at Western falls University enjoy some spectacular lighting effects. And today was no exception; warm golden rays of light bursting through the pristine panes filled the room with an enchanting glow that, for the most part, went unnoticed by the crowd of students sat at their desks, intently watching their professor as he elucidated on some abstract concept far beyond the realms of understanding of any layman – the kind of concept the prestigious establishment was known to teach.

The professor himself was a tall man, his body shaped in a way that indicated that, in the past, he was a much heavier person than now – a barrel-shaped midsection resting atop strong, but toned-looking legs. The professor's stocky frame shook lightly as he scribbled away at the colossal wall-mounted chalkboard installed in the theatre. One look at the writing on the board would have clued you in on the intellect of the man: relevant identities on the far left; proofs, written efficiently with cancelling implied rather than shown in the middle; and the applications of them towards solving on the right. He knew what he was doing.

"...And we know that cosec-theta is the reciprocal of sine-theta, which leaves us with tan-theta over cosec-theta. That's it for today folks – you're free to go know." The professor turned round, revealing a jolly middle-aged man with an eccentric, spiky moustache dressed in a red and gold coat.

"Any questions, come see me now, before Pickle chews me out for using 'his room' too long."

Amid the scraping of chairs and the hefting of bags, a noise came from the class resembling a chuckle by rough consensus. Smiling, the professor gathered his things and left the room, deciding to clock out for the day. Finishing at 11:30 was one of the perks of being a man at the top of your profession.

The professor made his way out of the building and began walking to his office, cutting across the campus quad to get there, when a voice called, "Ivo! Hey, Ivo Robotnik!"

"Yes?" Turning around, Ivo's eyes met the voice's owner: a red echidna, standing at about 5ft tall with biceps like school buses.

"Knuckles!" He greeted warmly, grasping the echidna's gloved hand and shaking it with vigour. "I thought we were meeting at the gym – you weren't making sure I stay on my jogs, were you?"

Chuckling, Knuckles shook his head in response. "You know how Jimmy Philips got a C on that midterm? I've been helping him with his functions work, and thought I'd drop in and meet you early. Care to give me a ride there?"

Robotnik nodded and continued to his office, idly chatting with Knuckles on the way. The echidna was a good guy; not as impatient or brash as he used to be, and his heart, as always, was in the right place. They discussed... life. Knuckles had been tutoring some of the kids in Ivo's class – most of them saw a marked improvement on their bi-monthly assessment papers compared to before the echidna's help had been enlisted. Outside of the college, Ivo and the red guy had been prepping for the CCM '13 – the central city marathon. Done annually to raise money for charity, it was a great way for Ivo to keep fit.

After packing his stuff into the office, Ivo headed out to the parking lot with Knuckles and got in his car, a small black sedan. They drove towards Central City. Ivo would power-walk, but Western falls U had no local gym to speak of.

"So... how's young Mr. Philips doing?" asked Ivo, talking out of the side of his mouth – he was never one to allow his focus to drop.

"His identities are coming along nicely," the echidna replied, "but reciprocal functions are a bit of a weak point. And he does this really weird thing with-"

"With tan x?"

"Yeah."

"That keeps popping up. I'll need to call him in for a lunch session on that."

Training with Knuckles was a test to say the least. Ivo hadn't always been the fittest, but he'd become something of a cardio specialist in recent years. The professor's now-impressive stamina was nothing compared to that of the red echidna, and trying to keep up during the session had left Ivo exhausted by the end.

As the two were leaving the gym, Knuckles got a phone call.

Lifting the phone to his ear, the echidna answered, "K.T.E here."

There was a faint crackle over the speaker, but Ivo could make out the voice on the other end.

_"Knux! What's going on dude? Not fallen for any more of Eggman's tricks have ya?"_

"Is that Sonic?" asked Ivo. Knuckles nodded. "I'm not here."

"Sonic! I was talking to Ivo earlier, actually," the professor's friend replied watching Ivo's reactions to make sure he was cool. "Now, what do you need?"

There was a pause. A worryingly long pause.

_"You've been talking to Eggman!?"_

_Shrugging, the echidna gestured for some help from Ivo, who gave a tiny nod in acknowledgement. "Yeah. Weekly workout, remember? We were doing some cardio at the gym - he broke his 5k record, as a matter of fact. Something up?" _

**_fine_**_. I've gotta go. See you."_

"Yeah, I'll talk to you la- He hung up on me." Knuckles sighed, and continued walking, pulling ahead of Ivo.

"Wow. He sounds desperate."

"You got that right. Anyways, we gotta stop by Smoky Joe's for a thing. You mind driving?"

"Uh, sure. Who's it with?"

"Vector, or as I like to call him, Sleaze ball McRuin-your-career."

"What?"

"You remember Chaotix, right? Trainwreck. I got laughed out of the business. I wasn't going to work for that scaly backstabber again."

"So... why are we going to see him then?"

"You'll see."

From an outsider's perspective, Smoky Joe's looked to be one of those family-owned cafés – the sort that would be really great, but would struggle to compete with the big chains like Ahabs and Atsoc. The reality was different; anyone who stepped inside, past the polished wooden door and professional sign, could see that Smoky Joe's was grimy. Dingy. Foul. Grubby. Any number of adjectives couldn't have done the place justice. It was simply unclean.

Ivo followed Knuckles to a table in the corner of the café. Around a rickety-looking table by the window sat two figures: one, a golden two-tailed fox; the other a hulking crocodile. The fox, who Ivo recognised as Miles Prower, was leafing through a book of some sort. It was a blank white outside and in, with more pages than most bestsellers.

As Knuckles and Ivo drew closer, the professor could see what looked to be doodles scribbled across the pages. Judging by the basic cartoon figures and the word 'BANG' written in a pointy cloud, Ivo guessed they were drawn by a toddler no older than six years.

"Alright Vector, you wanted him, here he is."

Miles looked up, and upon noticing Ivo, smiled in a way that looked _too_ genuine. It was a smile on a face used mainly for scowls and frowns, like a clear spot on a dirty mirror.

"Hang on, he wanted _me_?" asked Ivo, incredulous.

Vector flashed a toothy grin at the professor. "O' course! Sit down, Eggy," he said, gesturing to the chair next to Miles. With a wave of his hands, Vector proclaimed his intentions.

"I wanna make you **a star!**"

From what Ivo could tell, wild gesticulations were Vector's primary method of communication.

"How so?"

"Imagine it," the crocodile stood, spreading his arms as if to reveal a logo-

"Not this **_again!_**" Miles groaned, slamming his head on the table.

Ignoring the indignant fox, the SEGA employee continued. "Sonic Lost World: Sonic an' Eggy team up! It's brilliant! We gave the monkeys - I mean **writers -** full control with this here script," a small _thump_ was heard as Vector brought his fist down on the manuscript. "It could be _the big one!_"

From his face-to-face with the table, Miles gave a mumbled "hmph".

"Why would Ivo want to work with Sonic?" The fox asked, pulling himself up. "The two aren't exactly buddies y'know."

"Why not? The doc could stand to lose a' few pounds, sure, but he's perfect for it!"

"Are you serious? He's not going to work for you if you call him fat!"

Ever had one of those moments where a single decision has major long-term effects?

"I'll do it."

* * *

_**-A/N- Special thanks to my betas Eliza, turbo and Casey for making this more enjoyable.**_


End file.
